Episode XXV: Smelly Cat

Hello, all you wild and zany friends of mine!

Happy Halloween (or to some, Blessed Samhuin)! I have just spent the last six hours in trembling anticipation for hordes of gaily-dressed children to come a-knocking at my door. I have dressed up in my best witch outfit (not difficult for me), loaded up the candy bowl, and lit lovely little tea lights up the walkway to our house. I even carved a pumpkin!

Well, the first kids showed up around 6:30 (I had been expecting them around dusk (5-ish), and the last kids rang the doorbell about fifteen minutes ago, at 9:00. That’s kind of late for trick-or-treaters, don’t you think? And my doorbell has only rung a total of 5 times today, not counting the plumber this morning. What a disappointment! I guess I don’t live in a neighborhood that has lots of kids. I think it might be more retired people. (Side note: wouldn’t it be cool if the older people dressed up in costumes and went trick-or-treating? Maybe I should suggest it next year)

My adventures, I fear, have gotten fairly domestic. They are no less adventurous, but don’t involve travelling all over the country in a bus or losing all my money or anything like that. No, I’ve had to deal with mundane issues like the shower falling out of the wall or what to do with those stray cats I mentioned.

The first problem was easily fixed with a call to the plumber; the second problem...well, that’s a little more complicated.


As I mentioned before, Mama Cat came around to our house and adopted us sometime this summer. She then introduced us to her two kittens (originally there were three, but one of them disappeared). We didn’t really take the time right at the beginning to play with the kittens, and thus missed the crucial window of imprinting, so now the kittens are pretty wild. One of them will let me pet him, and the other one (although he’s a Mama’s boy and follows her everywhere) won’t let me come within two feet of him.


The “twins,” as I like to call them, since they look so alike, are now at the age where they should be wandering off on their own. But they’ve got a steady food supply here, so they’re not really going anywhere. In the meantime, I named them according to their personalities. Tybalt is the one who will let me pet him (named for Mercutio’s line, “More than prince of cats, I can tell you...”)...he’s fairly noble, as per his namesake. And Scherzo got his name when I saw him jump from flagstone to flagstone one day for no particular reason. I was going to name him “Scaredy the Cat,” since he keeps running the other way whenever I show up. but Scherzo adds a whole new dimension to it.

I am still hoping to give them away, possibly to a family, but barring that, to a shelter. So I made plans to take them to the vet and get their shots, etc. to make them more desirable as pets.

Well, Tybalt is a lot smarter than Scherzo. I think he knew what I was doing when I brought out the food bowl. Tybalt made for the bushes, and Scherzo trustingly walked into my sunroom for his food. I then put out the cat carrier, and Scherzo, ever the curious kitten, walked right into it. I said, “Oh, this is too easy,” and shut the door behind him. I couldn’t catch Tybalt, so I bundled Mama up in her carrier and took the yowling duo to the vet.

Once at the vet, Scherzo was impossible to examine. He was running around the office and clawing at anything and everything. Finally, we let Mama out for her examination, and found out that Mama got knocked up again. I guess that’s what happens to the girls who stay out late at night...anyway, the vet suggested that we get her spayed right away, kitten fetuses (feti?) and all. I swallowed my mother-goddess instincts and agreed, knowing that Mama was like the worst kind of welfare mother: she would just take advantage of me and my food, water, & shelter as she raised more and more deadbeats.

(Well, I wouldn’t call Tybalt and Scherzo deadbeats, exactly, but I am a little bitter that they don’t like me very much.)

At the end of Mama’s examination, the vet tried again with Scherzo, with no luck. She suggested I bring him in for a surgery appointment, so they can sedate him, give him his shots and snip him all at the same time. Apparently he’s old enough, and I don’t want either of the kittens to contribute to the deadbeat cat population, after all...

Anyway, that’s what has happened with me so far. I hope you are well, and I hope to hear from you soon (or possibly see you at my party on November 16).